


This type of terror is new

by thp_cara (TheHolosexualPan)



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, The Weight Of Lies (Hermitcraft)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, I DONT MAKE THE RULES, M/M, They're just being soft, but thats just cuz grian is an angsty baby, full fluff, grian needs all of the hugs ok, maybe a lil angst, other than that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24487021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHolosexualPan/pseuds/thp_cara
Summary: Grian struggles to stay awake as Mumbo brings him back to the G Team base.
Relationships: Grian/Mumbo Jumbo
Comments: 26
Kudos: 277





	This type of terror is new

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BastardBin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardBin/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Weight of Lies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20027974) by [BastardBin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardBin/pseuds/BastardBin). 



> After the cave scene in chapter 28, Grian gets all of the hugs because I said so.

His mind is drifting somewhere in the space between sleep and consciousness, only a muted thread of something that Grian thinks might be panic keeping him from slipping under completely, but even that thin sliver of logic fused with his own anxiety is starting to tremble, a tree that's grown too weak to stand against the, seemingly, never ending storm that his exhaustion has become, just swaying in place. He tries to blink himself into a more wakeful state, but it just serves to make the headache Grian had been trying to ignore ever since they left the cave throb inside his skull, so Grian just lets out a sigh, a soft, little sound that he muffles against Mumbo's black clad shoulder, carefully trying to keep the points of his horns as far away from the fabric as he can. Grian winces as he remembers the scratch on Xisuma's helmet, but, thankfully, the darkness hides his reaction pretty well. Mumbo continues walking through the hills between the two bases, which are now almost eerily quiet. Almost. With the slight rocking of Mumbo's steps and his breath warm on top of his head, Grian can't quite find the energy to conjure up his usual thoughts, the ones that keep him awake and on his toes. They're definitely there, but the feeling of Mumbo's arms around him does a good job of muting them.

There's a hand on his back which traces small patterns against the space between his shoulder blades, just above his wings and Grian can't help but want to cuddle further into Mumbo, the warm fingers allowing the muscles there to just unlock and _ease up_ and, though they feel nice, and Grian sighs as the fingers stop, only to move slightly to the left, he can almost feel his whole left arm wobble, he doesn't necessarily need to be even more boneless right now, not when he feels like he'll drift off at any moment. Grian closes his eyes and tries to focus less on the gentle affections and more on anything else, but that, as it turns out, is a mistake. If he listens closely, amongst the sound of the crickets jumping underfoot and the low whooshing of the cold wind, he can _hear_ Mumbo's heartbeat. Grian's breath almost stops when he takes notice of it.

It's a slow and barely audible sound, Grian can almost  _ feel _ it beneath his fingertips, which are pulling one of Mumbo's suit lapels in a tight grip, more than he can hear it and he almost melts, right there and then, in Mumbo's arms. Slowly, very slowly, almost involuntarily, Grian reaches out with the hand not currently holding a fistful of the dark fabric of Mumbo's suit and his fingers lightly brush against his chin. Mumbo looks down at him for a second before returning his gaze to the fields stretching out ahead, some holes still smoking, their edges red with yet to fade ambers. His mustache twitches with a small smile that Grian somehow still catches that little detail despite the darkness and despite the way black spots are starting to fill his vision if he focuses too hard.

"Okay?", Mumbo whispers, hand temporarily stilling where it had been moving in circles on his back and the other arm supporting him tightening just a fraction. Grian opens his mouth to say something, but a yawn makes it past his lips instead. There's silence for a second and then Mumbo is laughing, loud and clear and  _ warm _ . Grian blushes hotly and squirms a little, but not enough to have Mumbo put him down just yet. He thinks that, were Mumbo to set him down right now, Grian would just curl up in the damp grass and never get up. 

"Sleepy, then? We're almost there, don't worry", and Mumbo's voice is so mild, and there's something behind the words, something that escapes Grian and that he won't be able to explain even with a clear head. Instead, Grian nods lightly. His hand is still on Mumbo's chin, but Mumbo hasn't said anything about it and Grian feels so out of, like he is just a spectator to what his body decides to do at this moment, and his body decides to cup Mumbo's cheek before returning to lay against Grian's own chest innocently. Grian think his whole face would be red if he had any energy left, but as it stands, he just feels comfortably warm and… What is the word? Grian think for a second. 

Cared for.

It hits him as the white concrete walls, massive and perfectly geometrical as they are, come into view, as Mumbo hums under his breath something that sounds like a tuneless melody. Mumbo cares for him. Mumbo cares for  _ him _ .

Grian feels the warmth in his chest run cold suddenly and the sleepy relaxation turn sharp. He tries to hold onto his earlier headspace, but it's no use, and by the time they make it to the entrance, Grian is so into his own head, which feels particularly blank right now, not awake enough to process the fear and not panicked enough to not enjoy the situation more than he has any right to, Grian has no time to warn Mumbo about Gertrude.

The entrance reveals a dark green and purple clad figure, her hat abandoned on her desk for the night and a cat strewn around her shoulders like a particularly fluffy shawl. As expected, a paper ball hits Grian's head just as Mumbo steps inside and, finally, puts Grian down. He folds his wings behind him, but with the lack of any sort of strength, they hang quite limp against his back, feathers brushing a bit against the polished floor. Grian grabs the crumpled paper that hit him and opens it as Getrude gets back behind her desk and sets about gathering some of her papers. Mumbo looks at her awkwardly from where he stands just a few feet behind Grian and Getrude nods at Mumbo, a flash of something warmer in her eyes as she leaves through a hidden door, presumably heading for her own room.

_ Sleep _ , stands scrawled on the note.

He manages to catch her eye just before she closes the door behind her and it blends so well with the white concrete that Grian almost can't tell that it was ever even there, but he thinks about the look she gave him. Firm, but not cruel or angry. Just stern.

He realises Mumbo is waiting for him to lead the way a few moments later and, with his whole body awkwardly relaxed, to the point where even standing makes him dizzy, let alone walking, let alone using  _ water elevators,  _ Grian swiftly brings Mumbo to the G Team barracks, trying to ignore the way he sways on his feet as he does. The lumps of their fellow teammate, each laying in their own beds, not unlike how Grian saw them last time fill the room with a soft ambiance of snores, breaths and some muttered words about "hands" and "rights". Grian feels the faintest of smiles lift the corner of his lip at this and affection for these people blooms in his chest, even if there’s an empty bunk which makes his breath catch for a second. It is only once they are faced with a problem that Grian hadn't even thought about that Mumbo begins giggling, however: there's only Grian's bed left and Grian doesn’t feel like Mumbo would enjoy taking residence in Cleo and Joe’s bunk. He can see the Iskall lump breathing deeply in his sleep and Grian doesn't have the heart to wake him. Well, he won't be sleeping anyway, not here, he just needs an excuse to-

He feels a large warm hand settle on his shoulder, barely even there, and Grian turns to look at Mumbo, who hunches a little to whisper in Grian's ear.

"I've shared beds before, so we can do that for tonight, but only if that's ok with you?"

And the fact that Mumbo seems to care so much about him makes the wings on his back twitch and his heart twinge. Grian just nods, but he isn't sure Mumbo can see him in the darkness of the barracks, that is, until he sees Mumbo remove his dress shoes and plop himself into the bed, eyes soft, but tired also.

Grian swallows, but nods, almost more to himself than to Mumbo, this time, before he also removes his shoes and ever so slowly crawls into the small bed next to Mumbo. 

It’s a tight fit, especially with Grian’s wings taking up so much space, despite how Grian is trying to press himself to one side of the bed, almost falling off of the mattress and his wings, which he’s tried, to the best of his ability, to wrap around his own body ache because of how tense his whole body is in an attempt to not crowd Mumbo. He hears a sigh from Mumbo and he would turn around to look at him, but that’s quite difficult. However, Grian feels a tentative hand pat one of his wings and he almost jumps out of the bed, then.

“U-uhm...”, Mumbo sounds quite squeaky, tone questioning, but his hand is warm and steady, if light in its touch, “We may have a bit more space if, well, if uh...”

Grian sits up as carefully as possibly but he still pulls at a feather the wrong way and winces. He looks at Mumbo and, despite the darkness, he can still make out the furrow in his brows and the small smile on his face, as if he himself is not sure of his own idea. Grian fiddles with his fingers and looks down at his own lap. There’s little he wouldn’t do to help Mumbo feel more comfortable short of leaving the bed because he… And he is so selfish to let himself have this, but he feels like he really needs to be close to Mumbo right now, like he really needs to be clinging to him because, emotionally and physically, Grian is absolutely exhausted and being close to Mumbo makes him feel  _ safe _ .

“If we…?”, Grian asks, the whispered words still sounding a bit too loud to his own ears and Mumbo’s smile widens just a tad. He opens his arms.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Grian bites his lips and he looks everywhere except Mumbo’s face, because he knows that one glance at that tender smile and kind eyes will do him in.

“Are you- Are you  _ sure _ ?”, he ends up saying, pulling his legs to his chest and rubbing his own hands down his arms. He doesn’t know if it’s just in his mind, but the room is starting to feel quite chilly.

Mumbo doesn’t say anything else, but his smile doesn’t falter as he grabs the blanket from beneath them and leaves himself open, inviting Grian to lay… On him… To hug Mumbo and- Oh, goodness.

Something inside Grian’s chest moves and there’s a sting in his eyes, almost like he’s about to cry. He thinks that if he tried to speak right now, he would just shut down and start weeping because the angel that he’s lied to, that he’s hurt so many times, with or without Mumbo’s knowledge, is offering to embrace Grian while they sleep and his heart feels like it’s beating both too slow and too fast at the same time, skipping beats and fluttering against his ribs with something that Grian can’t name, something warm and soft and something that envelops him in all these feelings that make him want to crawl out of his own skin with guilt.

He shouldn’t allow himself this, he should just tell Mumbo that he’ll go find another bed, because he can’t even  _ actually _ sleep here, he should  _ leave _ , but his exhaustion is making him weak, is making him consider staying and all it takes is Mumbo looking at him for Grian to comply.

He moves about clumsily, almost hitting himself with one of his wings, but Mumbo is as patient as always and, when Grian finally settles on him, still tense, still trying to not press against Mumbo fully, his wings almost quivering with how hard he’s trying to keep them still and yet to keep them from spreading on the whole bed, but Mumbo just wraps his arms around him just below his wings and a hand runs over his feathers, the motion slow and light, which makes the wing beneath his hand relax and just fall limp to Grian’s side. Mumbo repeats the process to his other wing and Grian feels so loose, all of a sudden, that when those same gentle hands start caressing his back, he involuntarily plops down on Mumbo with a small sound.

Mumbo smiles at him and Grian feels like he can’t even breathe because of how bright it is, despite the lack of actual light, because of how it makes his heart seize and because it makes his thoughts go  _ silent _ .

As he is right now, snuggled against Mumbo, his own hands held to his chest and his face pressed against Mumbo’s shoulder, the image mirroring the way Mumbo had held him while they made their way here, Grian thinks that, if Mumbo asked him for his heart, he’d give it to him, riddled with all of his sins as it is, and he think Mumbo would treat it tenderly. For a moment, he allows himself to actually let that thought settle.

Grian presses his face into Mumbo’s chest and his hands clench against his suit, sleep pulling at him almost as heavily as the warm feeling that’s swirling around him and he can feel Mumbo’s warm breaths against his forehead and then, there’s the feeling of lips, a small kiss laid there amongst the blonde strands and Grian  _ melts. _

“Sleep well, Grian”, is whispered into his hair and a blanket is pulled over the both of them, the hands on his back stilling, but still a warm weight that really doesn’t do much to keep him grounded against the sleep that threatens to just overtake him.

When they’re like this, he can hear Mumbo’s heartbeat even better and Grian presses his ear against the soft material of Mumbo’s suit, mindful of his horns, and listens. He listens to Mumbo’s heart as it slows down and he listens to it as it thrums beneath his cheek and Grian think this might just be his favourite sound. 

He allows himself to remain there for only a few more moments after he is sure Mumbo had fallen asleep, the mild scent of redstone and something distinctly Mumbo making Grian relax further. He closes his eyes for a second and pulls his wings a bit closer, almost wrapping them around the both of them in a hug. Their white feathers seem to almost glow in the shadows of the barracks, but they serve as a reminder to Grian, of what he’s done, of what he’s doing right now and, as gently as he can manage, he gets up and untangles his limbs from Mumbo’s. 

The angel sleeps on and Grian cups his cheek with trembling fingers, almost afraid, almost too overwhelmed, but Mumbo doesn’t stir and, when guilt starts tainting the affection that’s been blurring his thoughts ever since he and Mumbo hugged after the whole cave incident, Grian removes himself completely, silently making his way out of the room. 

* * *

He closes the door behind him and, suddenly, he is face to face with Gertrude.

The cat shawl from before is now happily purring in her arms and she looks at him with a pointed, knowing look. When Gertrude starts walking down the corridor, Grian follows and, when Gertrude leads him to the small hidden room that he’d seen her use when he and Mumbo came in, he doesn't complain. Grian doesn’t think he has the energy to do so, anyways. 

And then the door closes behind him and Gertrude is sitting on a chair at a desk that’s covered with glass bottles of all shapes and sizes and a multitude of cats.

There’s a bed in the corner and Gertrude nods, ever so slightly, when he points at it.

Grian promptly lets himself hit the soft mattress and he tries to keep his thoughts from comparing how cold this bed feels compared to being snuggled in Mumbo’s arms. Eventually, his tiredness wins out and darkness envelops all that Grian can comprehend about the waking world.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted this to be even floofier, but Grian yoinked my hands :<


End file.
